


More or Less

by Saori



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Aromantic, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5562784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saori/pseuds/Saori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There’s… I’m not in love with you,” he admits, and sees Harry open his mouth to say something but Louis cuts him off. “No, wait, listen to me, okay, I’m not breaking up with you, I don’t want to, I just… I don’t know what I want, not really, didn’t really think about it. It’s… it’s not you; it’s not that I don’t love you, I love you very much. But… I’m not in love with you, I think,” he sighs, frustrated with himself that he can’t say it the way he explained to Lottie.</p><p>Or, Louis and Harry have been dating for years when Louis realizes he's aromantic, and have bit hard time with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More or Less

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fluorescentsunset](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluorescentsunset/gifts).



> For the prompt: _"Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson have been dating for years, when suddenly something is off. Louis comes to realize, after a lot of research, that he identifies as aromantic, something he didn't even know existed before because of the lack of education on romantic identity. They have to figure out how this is going to work."_
> 
> So, this is my first time signing up an exchange, also first time writing an aromantic character! It was a very new and interesting experience and I'm really glad that I could do it as a part of this exchange (I keep calling it a challenge in my head, because it was kind of like that to me).
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta, [Sam](http://archiveofourown.org/users/safetypin_louis/pseuds/safetypin_louis)!
> 
> I really hope you like it! Enjoy!

This isn’t the first time Louis types “What’s wrong with me?” into the search bar. He’s familiar with the tugging feeling in his stomach, the sweaty palms, the hammering heart, and the stolen glances behind him. It’s stupid. Harry won’t be home for another two hours.

This is all too familiar to him, reminds him the first time Harry kissed him. It wasn’t a grand moment, a great first kiss, or a life-changing experience – it was clumsy, wet, short and fast. They had been dating for two weeks, and Harry always came up with new ideas to spend their days together. And still, with the sappy romantic dates Harry took Louis on – damn, they even went on a boat trip – Harry managed to kiss him accidentally.

They were at Niall’s, the Irish lad always letting them have their weekly movie-night in his disgustingly big living room. Zayn and Louis, cuddling under the blanked, complained about not having popcorn, and he wouldn’t have been Harry Styles if he hadn’t offered to give them some. Louis beamed at him, because honestly, if Harry hadn’t offered, Zayn would’ve had to move his sorry ass and Louis was quite comfortable. Harry smiled at them before he leaned down, Louis automatically opening his arm to a hug.

Technically, it was an accident that Harry pressed his mouth to Louis’, but when he came back from the kitchen, there was a pretty irritatingly smug smirk on his face. Louis didn’t know why the kiss startled him, why it caught him off guard, why he was fucking surprised. Louis didn’t know why he ran to his computer that night, and typed in “my best friend kissed me, help”.

They started dating after a short friendship when Harry blurted out he wanted to take Louis out on a date. They never really did anything other than holding hands and talk – god, he loved talking to Harry. But there wasn’t even a peck on the lips. There was, though, this one time when they hugged and Harry’s hands wandered south, but then Louis just reached back and lifted his arms.

After he realized that Harry was supposed to be his boyfriend, after some guilty nail biting he typed in “my boyfriend feels like my best friend, what’s wrong?”. He, and the nameless Yahoo! users came to the decision that they should do more kissing and couple-y stuff to spice up their relationship. Which only started two weeks ago and both of them were still very new to this.

After that, it still felt weird, Harry kissing him, but he ignored the feeling, pushed the memories from that sinful Yahoo! night to the back of his mind. After all, he loved Harry, and the fact that he still felt like more of a best friend, according to Google, was rare and amazing in a relationship. He shouldn’t feel bad because of it, he should be proud that he achieved something most couples never do.

The first time they had sex was an experience full of inner battles. Technically, they still hadn’t know each other that well; they were together for two months, _knew_ each other for two months – so feeling like he did this with his best friend was stupid. He just had to think about only the feeling, his partner’s hands, mouth on him, and not that that it was _Harry_. He figured the whole point of sex was to get off, after all, so he soon learned to avoid thinking about the person, and more of the feeling.

The first time he welcomed the thought was when Harry’s grandmother died. He wanted to be there for him, hold him tight, be closer that he could ever, just by hugs. So he stripped them down and let him feel _Harry_ , his Harry closer than they were before.

He thought he figured it out after that. He thought he figured out how to be with Harry, just think about the closeness he felt with him during sex, not that it was sex. It worked well for very long time. He remembers when they had a fight about it in the beginning of their relationship, if you can call it a fight.

Harry talked about sex. About how if ( _when_ ) they did it, what kind of condom should they buy. Who would top. It just made Louis squirm. He felt awfully uncomfortable by the thought of him and Harry. Not the sex, he wanted that, just… not with Harry.

Harry, of course, noticed that whenever he brought it up, Louis would change the subject, or just repeat over and over again that: “of course I want to be with you _like that_ ,” – which was more or less a lie – “I just don’t want to rush things,” – or – “I’m just not quite ready yet”. He registered it as shyness, but eventually Louis couldn’t avoid it, so he did it.

As long as Harry didn’t know that it wasn’t the same to him, he was alright. Because Harry was clingy afterwards, telling him he loved him during, and to Louis it felt the same as before – just less sexually frustrated, but – the same closeness, not more in love than before.

He avoided it, as long as he could, but with time, he started to get suspicious. It happens on their movie night with the boys.

As he eats pizza in Niall's apartment, leaning against Harry, he feels like they're still just hanging out as friends. Niall pads out of the kitchen only wearing dirty white briefs, and a probably week old shirt, which is, ew, no, thanks. Liam's leaning against the sofa by their legs with Zayn observing the scene quietly from the other end of the couch.

"Move," Niall orders Liam as he steps over him, blessing the poor pup with a crotch in his face, and if the heavy "freezing hell" is anything to go by, the pants are most likely fishy too, Louis can smell it.

"Again, why I'm the one on the floor?" Liam asks as Niall sits his ass down, putting down the beers and the plate he had brought from the kitchen.

"We've made a deal, remember," Harry says with a smirk. "Singles on the floor."

"That's so unfair!" Liam groans just as Louis asks: "Since when does Niall and his right hand make a couple?"

"Not unfair," Harry shakes his head and Louis rubs his side where Niall elbowed him.

"But two of you _are_ in a relationship, so you always get to sit on the couch!" Liam exclaims. "And Niall with himself!" he adds a tad quieter.

"That's not true, I broke up with Jake two years ago--" Louis starts and everybody groans at that.

" _He_ broke up with you, and you were only dating for two days, if you can call that dating," Liam says pointedly.

"And he broke up with you because you were so obviously in love," Niall drawls out the word, holding back his giggles, "with Harry."

"You are disgusting, Niall, and FYI, I hate all of you," Louis crosses his arms. He tries to avoid his fast beating heart at the word love, and he certainly doesn't act like a child because he wants to hide his embarrassment. "Except Zayn," he reaches across Niall, putting a hand on Zayn's, who pulls away with a frown. "Okay, except Harry," he pulls back and curls into his boyfriend's side, painting his white Rolling Stones tee with ketchup.

It doesn't matter, because the shirt is old, and like, there are holes in it, and he fears to ask Harry where he got it from. He just scowls and pointing his tongue out the corner of his mouth, swipes the ketchup off, smearing it even more over the shirt.

He doesn't notice that everyone got quiet, and started watching him, Harry with a curious look. He decides against swiping it off with the pizza slice he has in his hand, and instead, licks his thumb, rubbing the spot into the fabric. When it’s faded and the shirt is dark with his split, he nods to himself, looking up at Harry, who's watching the spot with an impressed look on his face.

"Ugh, no, nope, come on, up," Niall protests, getting up and pushing Louis away from Harry, plopping down between them, sitting half on them. He ignores them as they throw "Niall!"-s at him, groaning in pain as they pull their legs out from under the blonde man.

"There, try to have clothes sex like this," he says smugly as he settles into the space between them. Louis rolls his eyes and cuddles into Zayn's side instead.

"Dick," he mumbles before Niall sighs heavily, heavier than ever.

"Aww, what's up, man?" Liam asks, looking up at him in an awkward angle. Zayn snorts at his nursing tone, but he looks at Niall the same way.

"I hate these two," he mumbles and Louis raises an eyebrow at his crossed arms and pout.

"And why is that, Nialler?" Harry asks just to be an annoying shit, slipping his hand between Niall's arm and chest, holding onto him as he rubs his cheek on the fabric of his shirt. Louis joins in, mirroring Harry and cuddling into Niall's other side.

"What's up, buddy, why do you hate us?" he asks in a sweet tone, looking up at Niall through his lashes. It always managed to make Harry weak at the knees, and he hopes it would work on Niall as well.

"You've ruined my life!" Niall throws his hands in the air in frustration, grunting. "I've had a decent sex life, an _active_ one, before you two ruined everything and got together!" Niall groans.

"Aww, babe, why is that?" Louis rubs his face to Niall's shirt too.

"I hate you so much," Niall says quietly.

"We love you, too" Harry whispers in his ear and then Niall shrieks and jumps.

"Harry! Did you just lick my ear?!" He yells and Louis raises his eyebrows as Niall stands and dramatically drops next to Liam on the floor, the farthest spot from Harry and Louis. Louis scoots closer to Harry, curling back to his side, gripping his arm tightly. Harry shifts him, turning him so his back is to Harry’s chest, and he can cuddle him closer.

"I swear to God, if they start making out, I'm gonna puke," Liam warns and Louis feels an unpleasant twist in his stomach. He always hated PDA, even when Harry pecked him in front of the others. It just makes him so uncomfortable, but Harry rarely picks up on it.

"Why did they ruin your life again?" Liam asks a bit confused.

"Because," Niall starts pointedly, forcefully. "They're the most disgustingly perfect couple on this fucking planet and I'm sick of it," he says.

"And why would this ruin _your_ life?"

"Because who would I want to have an okay relationship with when I know there's my Louis out there somewhere?" He cries. There's a pause when everybody's looking at Niall because it's _so_ not him. Then:

"Wait, why me?" Louis perks up and he really hopes that Niall doesn't mean it as he thinks he does – for his own safety.

"Well--" Niall starts and everybody's just so bloody quiet. "Because Harry's so lucky to have you, you know, mate?" he says and Louis stares at the back of his head. "If I was into guys, I'd do you!" he exclaims and Louis hisses at him, kicking him in the head. "Hey!"

"I am not the girl in this relationship, Niall!" he shouts and he sees Harry pressing his palm to his mouth but—no, just no.

"I didn't mean it like that! I mean, okay, maybe a bit, but can you blame me?" He turns around to glare at Louis. "Oh, yeah, there, oh yeah," he mocks and Louis looks at him sharply.

“Niall, that’s not--” Harry starts, looking at Niall with similar expression.

“Yeah, uhm, I guess there’s not any relationship like yours,” Liam sighs, trying to distract them, seemingly agreeing with Niall.

“Really, guys,” Niall looks at them sharply. “You ruined my life, why do you have to be relationship goals?” he wonders and Louis shrugs, not quite getting the whole thing.

“How do you do it?” Liam leans forward, amused smile on his lips. “How are you still together and so close after all these years?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious. Louis doesn’t have answers. Apparently, Harry has some, but Louis isn’t sure he likes it.

“Well, if you have a partner like Louis, it’s hard not to fall for him more and more every day,” he shrugs. Louis can hear the amused, probably fond smirk in his voice, and snuggles closer to him, Harry tightening his arms around his torso.

“Yeah, and I bet you’ve never had to be jealous, while falling in love more and more every day,” he sounds like he mocks Harry, but his expression is fond.

Louis doesn’t know that feeling, falling more in love, or being so jealous that he would throw a fit because of it. Yes, he was jealous sometimes, when his friends didn’t have time for him because of their other friends, but he never felt that burning jealousy he often hear about from his friends. The weird thing, though, is that he often makes Harry jealous on purpose, just to feel wanted. He often feels stupid because of it, but Harry understood it so far.

What makes his chest feel tight and like he is drowning now, is when Harry laughs softly behind him.

“Just letting him out there makes me jealous,” he says giggling and rubs his cheek to Louis’ hair. “Right, babes?” he grins now, but Louis can only manage a weak smile. Sure. He wishes he knew what Harry is talking about.

He is happy, of course he is. He loves Harry with every cell in his body, but he can’t help feel like after their first time – he doesn’t quite feel the same as Harry. And it scares the living shit out of him. Hard. He doesn’t want to fall out of love – even though he doesn’t feel like he was ever in love.

He wants to be with Harry, as long as Harry has him or longer. He wants kids, a house in the countryside, live with this boy for the rest of his life. It just doesn’t feel like he wants it the same way as Harry.

+++

So here he is. The screen of his laptop is getting blurred as the memories from last night come back to him, making his chest feel tight again, the lump in his throat thicker and not quite breathing normally. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hands, sniffing but not bothering searching for a tissue. He clicks on the first tab he opened a few minutes before.

It’s similar to his first search, from that night with the first kiss. Spice up your relationship – try out new things in bed, start to go out again. Take a break from your partner, go to couple therapy. This is natural, long term relationships can be tricky. Maybe you’re just bored.

God, no. He closes the tab, the browser jumping to the next automatically. The description of the question catches his eyes immediately.

“I’ve been with my boyfriend for a year now. We recently had a fight because I didn’t call him and messaged him that I’d like to meet with him, and it doesn’t even bother me. I don’t feel like it’s that important to me to meet him every day. At the end of the fight, he said “I thought we felt the same, I wake up every day and you’re the first thing in my mind, and the last thing I think about when I go to sleep”. It’s not the same for me. I don’t think about him like that. When we go to dates, I feel like I do this with a friend of mine, who I meet, we talk about stuff, then go home with a memory of a good day. There’s also the fact that I don’t like it when we hold hands and cuddle, I don’t act like that with my friends and acting like that with him is just weird. What’s wrong with me?”

Shit. Louis scrolls down to the answers, which says, she’s not in love, she should break up with him. He isn’t the one for her. He closes the tab, internally wishing the girl good luck. He clicks on the next tab, but that doesn’t have anything to do with his problem. He reads over another list of advice to spice up a relationship, then shuts the laptop.

Maybe he should just put everything away until tomorrow. He feels tired and upset, all he wants is to forget this whole thing. He makes himself a cuppa and curls up on the end of the couch, wrapped in a blanket. He barely pays attention to the show that plays on the TV, too caught up in his own mind when the door opens and Harry steps into the apartment.

They bought it together a year ago when both of them moved to London. Both of them got into university, but Louis took a year off because he didn’t feel quite ready to start the school. Harry is okay with it, both of them working sometimes. Louis has a part time job in a local café, Harry taking part time jobs when he has time next to his studies, but he doesn’t have a fixed job.

“Hey, baby, I’m home,” Harry calls out as he enters the apartment. He shrugs off his jacket and hangs it next to the others, toeing off his boots. Louis doesn’t answer as he just stares at the TV blankly. Harry doesn’t pay that much attention as he enters the kitchen to fix himself a cuppa too, then goes over to Louis, sitting on the couch next to him.

“How was your day?” Harry asks and Louis can only shrug. “You’re watching MTV,” Harry says as if it surprises him. Louis looks at him with raised eyebrows and sees Harry mirroring him, his lifted eyebrows makes his forehead wrinkle. “You hate MTV,” he says concerned and Louis hums. He does.

They don’t talk for another few minutes when Louis stares at the screen blankly, not paying attention to it at all as he thinks about his afternoon. He feels so guilty, just like back then, when they talked about sex and he avoided it at all costs, or when after their first time when he just wanted to sleep and forget the whole thing because it felt more like an annoying obligation than a wanted pleasure.

“Louis, what’s wrong?” Harry asks at the end of the show, sounding worried and concerned and somehow hurt. Louis certainly doesn’t need this right now, frustration creeping up on him, especially when Harry places a hand on his thigh.

“Nothing,” he answers quietly instead, hoping that Harry would just drop it.

He always hopes that people would just drop it. When his mother used to ask him about girls, then eventually boys. When his sisters wanted to meet with his first boyfriend and told him he should show him affection more often. When Harry’s sister, Gemma teases them about sleeping in the same room. _When his own mother suggested him to go to bath with_ _Harry_ – he still can’t believe that fucking happened and wishes it never did.

Harry just sighs at his answer and curls into his side, not noticing how Louis tenses at his touch. Sometime, he just wishes they were just friends: best friends and Harry wouldn’t want to do things like that. Sometimes intimate moments like this just feels annoying and wrong and it makes his chest tight, just so then he can feel like shit for not being the boyfriend Harry deserves.

Right now he puts that feeling aside, because no, he doesn’t want to cuddle, he wants to get out of here and just… Just not to be with him. He feels like a traitor, he feels like he just won the “World’s Worst Boyfriend Award”. He untangles himself from Harry and pulls out his phone.

“Gonna call Mum,” he says nonchalantly and moves to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t call his mom, not at first. He calls Zayn instead.

“Hey man,” Zayn greets him when he picks up. “Wassup?”

“Hey,” Louis says as he sits on the bed, then lies back to stare at the ceiling. “Nothing, what’s up with you?” he asks.

“Well, just hanging out, nothing special,” there’s a pause before he continues. “Yeah, um, why did you call me?” he asks awkwardly and Louis scowls.

“Can’t I call without a reason?” He asks and he knows it’s childish, but he can’t help feeling a pang in his chest.

“Yeah, of course, sorry,” Zayn rushes out, sounding apologetic, and for a moment Louis feels more at ease, until: “I just thought something happened.”

“No,” is his automatic answer before what Zayn said kicks in. He’s scowling again and this is not how he imagined this going. “Does something have happen so I can call you?”

“You’re putting words into my mouth,” Zayn sounds like he scowls too, and Louis hates this phone call. This may be one of the worst he’s ever had with Zayn, even though he almost never has bad phone calls with him. They barely ever fight. “Are you drunk?”

If Louis was anywhere near calm until now, it certainly miles and miles away from him now. He considers hanging up on Zayn, but then he’d have to face other things, things he doesn’t want to face. So he keeps going, even though he knows, he’s so fucking aware how much damage he’s doing, just because he’s in a bad mood. This was a bad idea.

“Oh, so I can only call you when I’m drunk? The thought that I might miss you is so fucking unbelievable?” he asks angrily, and maybe he just want to be angry at something, anything, just so he doesn’t have to deal with his guilt. And even now, he’s grateful it’s with Zayn. If he explodes on Harry like this, he’d might say something that he isn’t ready to let see sunlight just yet.

“No, of course not!” Zayn sighs loudly, sounding frustrated, and it just makes Louis want to crawl out of this life he has even more. There’s a pause before Zayn continues. “Where’s Harry?”

“On the couch. Why?” Louis asks suspicious.

“Why don’t you talk to him?” And that just made it. Louis knows. He knows he’s childish. He knows he’s acting like a bitch and knows it’ his entire fault, because he’s fucking making Zayn do it. The problem is; he doesn’t give a flying fuck.

“Because maybe I wanted to talk to my best fucking friend?!” he nearly shouts, sitting up and staring at the wall angrily.

“Sorry,” Zayn sighs defeated, and there’s a pause again. “Did you two have a fight? Is that why you’re like this?” he asks patiently and what Louis can’t handle now is understanding and patience and Zayn’s stupid voice.

“No!” he finally yells, angry at himself that seems to be directed at Zayn at the moment, the sober half of him, the reasonable part of him knowing that he didn’t have anything with it. “Why does _everything_ have to have _something_ to do with Harry?!” He yells, barely registering that said boy is only a few doors down, probably hearing him yell.

“Because he’s your boyfriend? Look, man, I’m sorry, but you just sound odd. I don’t think you’ve ever called me just because. Are you sure you’re okay?” Zayn the fucking saint. He’s sick of his life.

“Fuck you, Zayn.” He hangs up, and throws his phone at the other end of the room. He’s sure Harry heard the loud arrival of the phone on the wall, because there’s soft knocks on the door and his voice asking him if he’s okay.

“Yes!” he calls out, still tense and angry.

“Can I come in?” Harry asks and Louis stares at the door for a moment.

“I don’t care,” he mutters, which surely sounds like a yes, because Harry opens the door next.

“Are you okay?” he asks again and Louis doesn’t want to hear that question ever again.

“I’m going home,” he announces and gets up to go over their closet, pulling out his suitcase at the top of it. He throws it on the bed, rounding Harry and _why does he have to stand there?_

“What?” Harry asks confused. “Right now?” he pulls out his phone to check the time.

“Yes, do you have a problem?” Louis snaps and Harry just stands there with gaping mouth and huge eyes.

“Uhm, Lou, it’s almost 9 PM. You shouldn’t—“

“Don’t tell me what I should do!” Louis yells, throwing his clothes in his suitcase with too much force. He glares at Harry hard and sharp. “I do whatever the fuck I want to do, and if I want to go home, I’m fucking going home right now!” he yells and he should fucking _calm down_ , but he just _can’t_. “Are we fucking clear?!”

“Yes, Louis.” Harry answers powerless, quietly and he looks like someone kicked his puppy and Louis doesn’t even _care_. “We’re perfectly clear,” he says in a small voice and pushes past Louis out into the hallway.

Louis hears a door slamming shut and he bites his lip so hard it makes him want to stop. He wishes he could bite is so hard he would break skin, but he could never. Instead, he just turns with a lump in his throat and throws his clothes into his suitcase. He was so loud earlier, the silence makes his ears ring and he almost breaks down as he packs, but he manages.

He’s picking up his wallet and keys from the table next to the door when he sees Harry. He looks up at the opened kitchen door. Harry stands there, hips leaning against the counter, ankles crossed. He’s still wearing his clothes from work, black skinny jeans and a simple, grey tee. His hair is in a bun and his whole form is just stunning and fucking attractive.

He’s lifting a cup of tea to his lips, fingers full of rings curling around the mug, pretending he can’t hold it with only one hand because Harry likes to pretend he’s smaller than he actually is. He’s staring at Louis intense, his eyes greengreengreen and Louis feels the lump in his throat again as he turns and opens the door to the apartment, stepping out.

He’s a few steps away from their door when he realizes he forgot his shoes and walking barefoot on the hallway. He’s about to turn around when the door opens and Harry is there, and a pair of Vans hits the floor in front of Louis before the door slams shut. The only sound he hears from there are the locks turning before it’s deafening silence again and Louis sighs, sitting on the floor to pull on his shoes.

There’s a bag in one of them, pushed in there carelessly. It’s full of his favorite cereal and a box; he notices it’s the coffin pills they bought. Harry bought the two of them tickets to the Leeds Festival last year, but they totally forgot until the night before. Harry decided they’d go anyways; they just needed something to keep them awake on their way there. They forgot to pack food and Louis complained about it until Harry pulled off at a nonstop store and bought him some chips.

Louis swallows, taking a deep breath, because even though he was the biggest dick this world has ever seen, Harry’s still taking care of him when he can’t. He puts the bag away in his backpack and pulls on the shoes, continuing his way down.

+++

It’s almost midnight when he finally sees the familiar fence, box of coffin empty on the front seat, with remains of colorful cereal. He doesn’t pull his suitcase up to the porch, just puts it in the trunk and locks it, grabbing his backpack. He fumbles with the locks of the door, forgotten which one opens this house and which one opens Mark’s.

When he finally manages the door open, turning off the alarm, he nearly screams in surprise. His mother stands on the first step, his own skateboard in her hand. Just as he entered, she turned on the light and raised the skateboard to hit whoever came in. She lowers the skateboard with a relieved sigh.

“God, son, what the fuck do you do here?!” she asks in a hushed tone.

“Mom, language!” he hisses back and—wait. “Mom, is that my skateboard?!”

“It’s me asking the questions now; was it that hard to lift that heavy phone of yours and dial “home”?!” she smacks his arm with her free hand.

“I--”

“ _You_ sleep on the couch and as soon as I get home in the afternoon, you’ll explain everything,” she says not even listening to him as she closes the door behind him, turning the alarm back on and pushes him towards the living room. “You know where the spare duvet is, and the tap is broken in the toilet so use the kitchen’s.” She tells him as she leans the skateboard against the wall at the bottom of the stairs and heads upstairs.

+++

When he first stirs, it’s barely dawn and it’s to the sound of an explosion. He blinks his eyes open to see his younger siblings on the floor, TV on and watching a cartoon. He sighs and turns his back to the screen.

When he wakes up the second time, it’s to the sound of very bad toy piano playing. He turns his head, lying on his back so he can see an unknown form on the floor with Ernest and Doris. Ernest punches the toy piano like it offended him and Louis smiles at the scene, sighing as he feels himself waking up properly.

He sits up, stretching and it draws the babysitter’s attention to him.

“Hi,” they smile shyly at him and Louis groans.

“Hey,” he says and Doris looks up at him from the stuffed animal she abused. She grins up at him toothless, Louis’ heart melting as he slides off the sofa in front of her. “Hey, little lady,” he greets her as he bends to hug her.

“You’re Louis, right?” the babysitter asks, not paying attention to Ernest, who now tries to come over to Louis too. Louis reaches out for him, pulling him in for a hug too.

“Yep, the eldest of the pack,” he says as he holds the two little bodies close. They’re warm and they are a sweet, steady weight against him, their firm little chests pressing to his as they giggle at something next to his head. “Sorry, Mum mentions you all the time but I always forget your name,” he says with an apologetic smile.

“It’s okay, it’s Francesca. I’m the babysitter,” they gesture to the two giggling bodies in Louis’ lap who’re playing with his hair and—

“Ouch, ouch, Doris, no, don’t pull it, ouch,” he pulls his head away and to that, even Francesca starts laughing.

“That’s why I wear it in a bun!” they gesture to their brown curls in a bun.

“Smart, smart,” Louis smiles at them before moving the kids off of him, Doris with the help of Francesca.

He does his morning routine idly chatting with them about uni, kids and how they got this job. They tell him about their best friend a lot, but it’s not annoying, just a calm distraction. Louis moves them to the kitchen so with the help of the kids they prepare some lunch, and Francesca listens to Louis when he tells them not to care about the tomato sauce on the wall.

“Jay said you just showed up in the middle of the night,” they mention when they are done with lunch and moved to the living room. The babies should sleep, but they cry when they put them down, so instead Louis let them hang out with them, hopefully helping them get tired.

Louis tries to teach Ernest a single verse on the piano. He sits in Louis’ lap, Doris in front of Francesca, pressing another toy that makes sounds.

“Yeah, not good with this spontaneous thing,” he shrugs. He distracts himself with Ernest just so he doesn’t have to tell them why he’s here in the first place. “So you learn literature in uni?” he asks just because he has nothing else to say.

“Yeah, I love words,” they say. “I’ve learned some words on my own, I love to discover new ones,” they blush a bit, and Louis smiles at them.

“That’s cool,” he nods, looking down at Ernest. “See, bud, Francesca here knows more words than you. I bet she knows more than me even,” he smiles up at them and they blush.

“Uhm, they,” they say and Louis furrows his brows at that. “My pronouns. It’s--” they clear their throat and look down at Doris. “I’m agender. My pronouns are ‘they’ and ‘them’,” they explain and Louis opens his mouth to apologize, just as the door opens and Jay comes in with her phone pressed to her ear.

“No, Harry, I have no idea,” she says as she puts her bag on the couch, smiling at the scene on the living room floor. Louis looks down with his lips pressed together tightly. “Zayn?” she asks concerned and Louis busies himself with Ernest. “Harry, honey, I just got home, calm down, okay? I’ll talk to him as soon as we hang up, and then I’ll call you.” She sits on the couch, pushing the duvet away and waving to the babies. “Harry, he’s _fine_ ,” she says with a deep sigh. “I’ll ask him, okay?” she asks with motherly caring in her tone. “And sleep, honey, you sound tired, okay? Of course, bye, baby!” she sighs as she hangs up and Louis is fucked. F-u-c-k-e-d.

“Why did Harry just call me crying that you stormed out of the apartment after yelling at Zayn and him for nothing?” she asks with a firm tone and Louis plays an accord on the toy piano. “Louis, Harry was scared that you crashed your car on the way here because he has no idea what’s up with you, answer me!” she raises her voice a bit and Louis cringes.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs as Francesca quietly scoops up the kids to try to put them down for their nap again.

“How can you not know why you just flipped a metaphorical bowl of shit on Harry’s head, love?” she asks with a gentle edge of her voice while she is still in strict parent mode.

“Does he hate me?” he asks quietly and Jay slides on the floor next to him.

“He asked me to tell you he loves you and he hopes you’ll go home soon and explain things,” she tells him gently running her hand down his spine. “At least talk to me, baby, I’m your mom, yeah?”

“I--” he starts, then sighs. “I can’t tell you what’s going on because I have no idea.” He admits for the first time. “I love Harry, but… I don’t think I’m in love with him.”

“Oh, honey, this happens to everyone!” she exclaims. “Mark and me, Dan and me… With time, these feelings change! It’s okay, honey, you just need to find the one, who stays with you even after that,” she tells him gently and Louis shakes his head. It’s the same as good old Yahoo!.

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved him like that. I think something is,” he pauses, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. “I think something’s wrong with me.”

“Louis, no!” she turns his head to face her. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You hear me? Maybe Harry isn’t the one, and that’s okay too! Of course it’s going to be hard to explain, and it will take time to be friends again…”

“God, Mom, no,” he feels himself paling. “I don’t want to break up with him, no, I just don’t think I feel the same as him and it scares me--”

“Maybe, did you try…” She clears her throat. “I’ve heard that after that movie lots of couples stayed together by trying it out, you know what I’m talking about? 50 shades of--”

“Holy fuck, Mum, are you--”

“Look, I’m just saying maybe trying out--”

“No, no, no, nope,” Louis stands and cups his ears. “Mum, please just stop, I will do the dishes, the laundry, fix the roof, the tap, buy you a car, a TV, take Doris and Ernest with me…”

“Okay, okay,” she laughs at his mortified face and moves over to the couch, pulling Louis down with her. “I’m just saying--”

“Lalalalala!” he starts singing loudly and she laughs as she pulls his hands away from his ears and puts her hand in front of his mouth.

“I was trying to say that maybe trying out new things that interest you more than what you’ve done before would help, and no! I’m not talking about just sex,” she grins at him, and really, Louis’ mum is so beautiful, and he loves her so much.

She just doesn’t point out things he hoped someone would.

“I don’t know, Mum. I’ll try to figure something out,” he sighs and stands. “Can I stay for a few days though? I feel like I need some time off,” he runs a hand through his hair.

“Of course, baby, anything you need. Just please, call Harry and tell him this too, he’s very scared,” she smiles at him, standing up as well. “I’ll help carry your stuff up,” she says and Louis leads them out to his car.

They put the suitcase and the backpack in the spare room. After he moved to London, Louis’ room became the twins' so now the family fits into the house more comfortably. They meet Francesca on their way up, then as they go down to make teas and catch up with each other, they see them sitting on the couch.

“Thank you for staying, honey,” she says as she approaches them in the living room. “Take off the rest of the week, I will pay, but I will have Louis here for babysitting.”

“I come with pleasure, Mrs. Deakin, and at least Louis can sleep longer if I come,” they smile at her and Jay sighs.

“Alright, then,” she smiles at them.

“Then, I’m going,” they say and gets up heading out of the room. “Tomorrow, 7 o’clock, as always, right?” they ask and Jay nods. “I will be here,” they say as they straighten from putting on their shoes. They say bye and soon Louis sits on the couch cross legged, chatting with his mom about old friends, relatives and about life in general.

His sisters come home in the afternoon, jumping on him and surrounding him with girly chatting. They watch Frozen, Daisy and Phoebe cuddling into his side, hiding into his jumper when the snow monster starts to fight with Anna. They stay up late because Daisy wants to watch Minions and Jay doesn’t mind.

When it’s time to go to bed, he goes to the twins’ room and tells them the simpler and kid friendly version of Star Trek. He then moves to Ernest and Doris’ room since he didn’t say goodnight to them, and he enters quietly. He leans down to their beds, kissing their heads.

He moves to the spare room, closing the door behind him. He pulls out his laptop from his suitcase and turns it on. He pulls out his phone while he waits. His thumb hovers over Harry’s name, not quite wanting to talk to him just yet. He stares at his phone for a few minutes before he locks it and moves to his computer instead, and puts on another episode of The Walking Dead.

+++

The week goes by quickly. During the day he chats with Francesca, in the afternoons he hangs out with his sisters. He helps Fizzy with her homework and watches TV with the twins. It’s easy to sink back to this. He called his boss at the beginning of the week to say that he’d be taking a few days off and sent Zayn a message saying that he’s sorry about his earlier call. He hasn’t answer yet.

On Friday, the girls leave to go to Mark’s, all except Lottie. Dan was out of town for a bit, and now that he’s back Jay went out with him to have dinner. He sits on the couch watching Breaking Bad, Lottie on the other end, painting her toenails. He didn’t expect her to start a chat, but she surprises him with her comment.

“Did you talk to Harry?” she asks and tilts her head to the side to paint her big toe perfectly.

“Not yet,” he sighs after he considers ignoring the question.

“Zayn?” she asks as she does the last brush strokes.

“No,” he sighs and he doesn’t even ask how Lottie knows about this all.

“Alright,” she says as she puts the nail polish away, then picks up the remote, turning off the TV.

“Hey! I was watching that!” he protests but Lottie just quirks a skeptical eyebrow.

“You’ve seen it three times before. Now it’s time to talk to someone,” she says pointedly. “What’s up, big bro?” she asks, sitting cross legged, turning to face him and Louis does the same.

“What do you want to know?” he tries to ignore the question the best he can, but she’s Lottie and it would be a miracle if she couldn’t see right through him.

“Why did you run away?” she asks and Louis sighs.

“I don’t even know,” he says quietly.

“Louis,” she warns and Louis rolls his eyes.

“There’s—uh,” he sighs and shifts. “I think I’m not in love with Harry,” he admits, looking down at the couch between them. “I mean, I love him, I want to be with him, but I’m not in love with him,” he sighs. “He says things, that he feels things and does things that… that I don’t want.” He tries to explain.

“Like what?” she asks.

“Well,” he chews on his lower lip, considering not telling his sister. He looks up at her and she looks at him with big, innocent eyes, eyebrows raised. He tried out a weak smile. “This whole dating, kissing, sex, having to do everything with him… I… I don’t feel comfortable doing that all the time,” he admits. “I mean, I don’t mind sometimes like when I’m horny, of course, and having someone to--”

“I get it!” Lottie holds up her hands, a slight blush creeping up on her cheeks. Louis smirks at her and sighs.

“Anyway, you get what I’m trying to say?” he asks, but cuts in immediately. “Never mind, even I don’t get what I’m trying to say.”

“No, no, I kind of get it,” she says with a smile. “So, you don’t want to act like a boyfriend all the time. Did that crossed your mind that maybe it’s just because you’ve been together for a long time?” she asks and Louis shakes his head.

“It’s not a new thing. It’s been there from the start, but now I feel like I can’t pretend anymore,” he pulls his knees up to his chest, hugs them close and rests his chin on his knees. “And it’s not even just Harry. Do you remember Jake?”

“Who you dated for, like, a week? You broke up with him because you met Harry, didn’t you?” she asks, but Louis shakes his head.

“We dated for longer than that, we were just trying to make it more official than the ones we had before. Anyways, Jake was… He was like, wanted to talk every day, wanted to meet and wanted me to spend my weekends at his. I’ve found it so annoying and I felt so forced into this whole thing that I broke up with him. And there were Nate, the same as with Jake. Harry’s the first one I could stay with for so long because he was always okay with giving me a bit of space; I feel more like he’s my best friend…”

Louis sighs and runs his nail through the wrinkles of the cushions. Lottie is quiet, the silence deafening again. Louis doesn’t want to look up, doesn’t want to see his sister realizing he’s so fucked up. What he doesn’t except is her leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him.

“We will figure this out, okay?” she asks, her hot breath trickling Louis’ ear.

That night, Louis sleeps well for the first time he’s been home, and when he wakes up, he realizes that he hasn’t contacted Harry all week.

He picks up his phone, going to Harry’s name. He sighs, bracing himself for the call, then presses the button. It dials and he waits before the dial sound cuts off and Harry’s sleepy voice calls out a hello.

“Hi,” Louis rasps, clearing his throat and trying again. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Harry says, voice still heavy with sleep. There’s a pause when Louis doesn’t know what to say.

“So, I was thinking,” he starts, and pauses at Harry’s sigh.

“I think I got the message,” he says sounding sad and Louis really, really feels like shit.

“No, I--” he starts, but doesn’t really know what to say.

“I talked to your mom. She said you needed time, but not how much. Look, all I want to know is why? Why did you just… snap and decide you’ve had enough of me?” he asks, sounding hurt and Louis feels even worse. He didn’t mean to hurt Harry. He didn’t mean it all. “And before you ask, I talked to Zayn too, and even if I didn’t, I heard what you said on the phone. Please, just tell me why.”

“I don’t want to break up, Harry,” he says quietly before Harry can go deeper into this.

“It doesn’t seem like that to me,” Harry says and Louis feels kind of choked.

“No, Harry,” he whines and shakes his head. “I just. We need to talk, okay, please,” he turns to his side, pulling the blanket up, over his head.

“So, then talk, Louis, because the last time I checked everything was just fine,” Harry exclaims. Now, he sounds upset besides the other things Louis noticed before. He sighs and pushes the blanket down.

“Alright,” he says. “Alright,” he sits up, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll go home. Just—just let me pack, and--”

“Louis, it’s very early,” Harry sighs. “Calm down, wake up some more and then come home,” he says, still sounding upset, voice cracking at the end.

“Yeah, alright,” Louis agrees. “Okay, sorry,” he nods before he lays back down.

“Don’t apologize, just think before you start to do something,” Harry says and Louis’s fairly sure he shakes his head.

“I’ll be home today, so we can talk,” he nods and Harry agrees quietly. “See you then,” he hangs up, and then relaxes back into the bed.

He starts packing just when he hears his mom waking up, going downstairs to make tea for herself. He puts everything he remembers into his suitcase. He zips back the bag and carries it downstairs. He puts it next to the door, entering the kitchen where his mother pours hot water into two cups. She looks relaxed and almost years younger than she has all week.

“Where are you going?” she asks instead of greeting him.

“Home,” he sighs and picks up a cookie the twins left. “I’m just going to eat and have a cuppa, then get going. Is Dan up?” he asks and Jay nods, filling the kettle again.

“Do me a favor and take this up to him,” she gives Louis a cup. “And knock before you go in,” she calls out after him, and he groans as she laughs.

He knocks on the door, and after a moment, Dan calls out for him. He opens the door and enters. Dan stands in the bath door in briefs, rubbing a towel over his chest. He smiles at Louis as he sees him.

“Hey, bud,” Dan greets him.

“Hi, Mum sent this up for you,” he lifts the cup and puts it on the bedside table. He starts to sit on the bed, but thinks better of it, going over the armchair instead. “How’re things?” he asks as Dan pulls on a shirt and sits on the bed, lifting the cup to take a sip.

“Good, great even. What’s up with you, kiddo? Heard you’ve got a bit trouble in the paradise,” he says. Louis pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

“Just some middle age drama, I guess,” he shrugs and Dan chuckles at that. “No,” Louis sighs quietly. “I just think I’m a bit freaked out. Needed some time away from Harry. To think, I think, just a break.”

“Why?” Dan furrows his brows. “Did something happen?” Concern shows on his face. “Did he propose?” he asks and Louis’ head snaps up.

“What?”

“Don’t look at me like that!” Dan raises his hand as if saying he’s innocent. “You’ve been together for quite some time now, so it wouldn’t be all that surprising. Yes, you’re young, but in love and you live with each other. The logical next step is marriage, or at least engagement.”

“Do you think he would? Propose to me?” he asks, interlacing his hands in his lap, looking at them.

“Well, to be honest, I thought it would be you,” Dan shrugs.

“Yeah, that would make sense,” he admits, nodding.

“You know, if you want to, then you should. I can tell this boy loves you, and as much as I know him I think he expects a future with you.”

“Oh,” Louis sighs and Dan smiles at him.

“You don’t have to, of course. So, you’re going home?” he asks and Louis looks at him confused. “You put actual clothes on,” he laughs at him and Louis rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry you can’t stay for longer, but I bet Harry needs you,” he nods at him.

“Yeah, guess so,” he looks up, but before he can sink back to his self-hatred, Dan stands next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Go home, we’ll catch up later,” He smiles at him and Louis returns the smile.

+++

When Louis gets home, it’s late afternoon and the apartment is dark. It crosses his mind that Harry maybe forgot and went out, but his shoes are still by the door.

He steps into the living room where the TV is on giving off the only light in the flat. Louis puts his suitcase by the wall, and stands behind the couch. Harry’s there, curled up in a ball, watching the movie he had put on. There are used tissues, cups and plates on the table, and the couch looks like he slept there the last few days.

Louis sighs, rounding the sofa. Harry doesn’t even flinch when he sits by his head. Louis sits there for a minute, just watching Harry watching the TV before he sighs again, and slides his hand under Harry’s head, lifting it then sliding his thigh under it and gently letting it back down. He runs a hand through Harry’s curls.

“This is my revenge,” Harry rasps, gesturing to the screen. “In the form of Love Actually,” he says and Louis laughs breathlessly.

“Could imagine worse ways,” he says off-handedly and Harry nods. They fall into a silence, watching the movie as Louis cradles Harry’s head.

After the movie stops, though, Harry sits up, brushing through his hair with his fingers. He drops the remote Louis didn’t notice before to the table. He turns to Louis as he turns on the lamp next to the couch.

“So?” he asks. His hair is a mess and he looks sleepy, and he’s just very beautiful like this.

“So, uhm,” Louis starts, looking down at his hands that rest on his thigh. “I’m sorry,” he pushes out.

“Okay,” he nods. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“No,” Louis shakes his head. “No, of course not, I only needed to say it. Look, uhm, I… Don’t get me wrong, okay, and please listen to me, because I need you to understand me.”

“Alright,” Harry nods. “Get on with it.”

“There’s… I’m not in love with you,” he admits, and sees Harry open his mouth to say something but Louis cuts him off. “No, wait, listen to me, okay, I’m not breaking up with you, I don’t want to, I just… I don’t know what I want, not really, didn’t really think about it. It’s… it’s not you; it’s not that I don’t love you, I love you very much. But… I’m not in love with you, I think,” he sighs, frustrated with himself that he can’t say it the way he explained to Lottie.

“Like,” Harry starts, face full of concern and a bit disbelief, seemingly upset. “You don’t love me like that anymore? That’s--” he starts, but Louis shakes his head, cutting Harry off.

“Yeah, but no, it’s not that,” he sighs. “It’s more than — it’s not just with you. And it was always this way with you. Sometimes I got fed up with how often we meet, and before you ask why didn’t I tell you, I thought I had to, like, having a boyfriend was like this, like, like a duty,” he admits a little upset himself.

“Louis,” Harry cuts him off this time, brows furrowed. He leans back to the arm of the sofa, arms crossed. “Having a boyfriend is supposed to make you feel good and should relieve you, not making you feel obligated.”

“Figures,” Louis laughs breathlessly and takes a deep breath to continue. “I still like to spend time with you. When we moved together, that made it easier, because like this we don’t have to do things, because we spend time together anyways. I don’t even know if I make sense,” he says with a chuckle.

“Why did you run away?” Harry asks. Louis thinks about the answer, even though he knows why.

“I needed to accept this, I think. I needed some space, a little break away from you. And… I’m sorry for doing it this way. I know I should’ve told you all of this, and just then leave, that way you would’ve understand, and it wouldn’t hurt any of us. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that already,” Harry nods and Louis presses his lips together. “So, what you’re saying is… what, exactly?” He asks with a little bit confused, which is totally understandable. “You want to be with me, still, but you’re not in love?” he asks, trying to put it together. It’s not the same as Louis thinks of it, but he can’t figure out better way to explain either.

“You can say that, yeah,” Louis shrugs, trying to pull himself smaller.

“And what does that mean?” he asks concerned. “We will live here like best friends while saying we’re boyfriends?”

“No,” Louis huffs in frustration. “It’s not like that. I’m… I’m up to, like, boyfriend-y stuff. Nothing has to change, really. It’s just… It’s not about us, its’ about me,” he grits out, not meaning to hurt Harry again, but he has a feeling he does.

“Okay, yeah, sorry,” Harry shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I think I get it, kinda. I’ve had a friend who was aromantic, or asexual? Anyways, she pretty much explained it…”

“What?” Louis furrows his brows.

“What?” Harry looks up equally concerned. “Uhm, yeah, she was asexual I think, that means she doesn’t want to have sex. But… You’re aromantic. Right?” he looks at Louis puzzled. “At least it sounded like that to me, but I’m sorry if you’re not, but I mean, I don’t really get the whole thing actually, but being aromantic is when someone doesn’t fall in love, or something like that, isn’t it?”

“I--” Louis blinks, maybe to stop some tears from falling. “I have no idea,” he says quietly.

“You--” Harry starts before he cuts himself off. “Do you want to look it up?” he asks carefully and Louis shakes his head a little. “Maybe we can look at it sometime later,” Harry nods, voice just above a whisper.

“I’m… Do you think I’m… that?” he asks, feeling a bit vulnerable.

“That’s not my place to decide, Lou,” Harry says carefully. “It’s all on you. Whatever happens with us, whatever happens with you, it’s your head and it’s your heart.”

“But, but you’re saying I’m not fucked up?” he asks confused and not quite getting it.

“No, of course not,” Harry shakes his head with a sigh. “Sometimes I forget how much of an idiot you can be,” he says with a small smile.

“Shut up,” Louis throws a pillow at him, and Harry laughs. There’s a pause while Harry calms down and Louis realizes just how much he missed that sound.

“But Louis, whatever you feel, I still want to know, like, where we stand.” He says a bit shyly, playing with the corner of the pillow. “I don’t want to lose you, but forcing anything on you doesn’t sound too pleasant either.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighs, trying to figure out the mess in his head.

“Okay, let me ask a few questions,” Harry says after another pause. “Do you want to break up?”

“No, of course not,” Louis shakes his head.

“But would you want to stay with me? As my boyfriend?” Harry raises an eyebrow and Louis nods, looking at him seriously. “Do you want to have sex in the future?” Harry asks with an edge of his voice and Louis rolls his eyes.

“Yes, just… not all the time, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay, I can work with that,” he runs a hand through his hair. “What makes you uncomfortable when we’re together? Like the day when you left, what made you snap?”

“It wasn’t--” Louis starts before thinks of it better. He did snap because Harry made comments the night before that he couldn’t handle in that moment. It annoyed him that Liam and Niall read more into their gestures than what they actually were. He doesn’t even notice when he starts to speak.

“I hate when Niall and the boys tries to make us look like a couple that can’t keep it in their pants. When I cuddle you it doesn’t automatically means I want to make out or have sex, I just need your comfort.

“And I don’t need to be reminded every time that you’re so in love that you get jealous when I go out. I can be my own person without you. Sometimes I don’t even realize I flirt with others, I don’t do it on purpose. And I just, I’d like to have some respect with the fact that I don’t feel the same as you. That just because we’re a couple doesn’t mean I’m in love, even though I do love you more than everyone else.”

He stares at his hands as he speaks, not wanting to see the hurt on Harry’s face. He’s surprised when Harry speaks because he only sounds just a bit upset.

“I’m not saying I’m perfectly okay with every one of these,” he admits. “But… but I’ll try my best, if… if you really want to stay with me after all this?” he sounds unsure and Louis looks up at him. Harry sits cross legged, pillow hugged to his chest.

“Yeah, I want. I love you, you know,” he says and Harry nods. “Hey,” Louis clears his throat and slides closer to him, knees touching. “Let me ask a few questions too.”

“Okay,” Harry nods.

“Okay. Are you okay?” Harry nods, just a small movement of his head. “You don’t think it’s because of you, right?”

“I’m trying to,” Harry nods again and Louis opens his mouth to protest. “It’s not like,” he snaps his fingers. “Like I can accept it in half an hour, okay?” he looks up at Louis through his lashes. “It will take time, and I’m. I will feel shit, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis nods, voice breaking on the word. He’s choked up and not quite sure if he can continue. He tries anyway. “Does this mean you think I don’t deserve you? Because I’d totally understand that, and believe me, I feel the same, and--”

“No, hey,” Harry bumps their knees together, making Louis to look up. “Maybe there will be… moments when I will feel like that, but then I’ll realize that it’s you, and that I love you more than anything and I could never bear the thought of you torturing yourself with thoughts like this, okay?” he tilts his head to the side and Louis nods.

“And… And you still want to be with me?” he asks at last. Harry doesn’t answer, reaches out instead. Louis takes hold of his hand, and Harry interlaces their hands, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Louis’ before he speaks.

“Only if you’ll have me,” he answers, searching for something in Louis’ eyes. Louis smiles and nods against his head.

“Now, let’s cuddle, because we’re too messed up right now to talk and I need… How did you say it? Your comfort,” Harry says with a shit eating grin on his face and Louis laughs, knocking his head against Harry’s and they both groan at the pain.

“Who has such a massive skull like that?” Louis groans, rolling the painful spot on Harry’s forehead.

“Says the sweaty one,” Harry makes a face and Louis kisses him, just because.

Yeah, they will feel like shit for a while after this. They will have to work to have a relationship that they’re both comfortable in. For now, they can lean back and enjoy the simple comfort the other can give.

“By the way,” Harry says, slowly. “I told Zayn we broke up because you ran away,” Harry mentions and Louis considers kicking him in the head too.

 

++END++

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to say hi, I have a [tumblr](http://assisreal.tumblr.com/), and also a [rebloggable post](http://assisreal.tumblr.com/post/158622568557/more-or-less-by-saori-for-fluorescentsunset-word) if you feel like sharing the fic! Also check out the [1D Aro-Ace exchange](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/1Daroexchange) for more awesome fics!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated, I learn from your constructive criticism!


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